Humans: Food for Thought
by Fulcrum Abraxis
Summary: This isn't a DotD crossover, but it's the closest I could get. This story is about a massive plague of zombies in the USA, and about the characters who must endure it, and some who might not. Still in progress, so check for updates every now and then.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

I guess I should back up a little bit. Explain what's going on. There's so much to tell, yet it all sounds crazy, like some story out of a book or a horror movie.

But it isn't.

It isn't at all. It's something like the world has never seen before. They're everywhere. They kill and kill and make everyone else their own. They are without reason, Without care, and without mercy. Who are they?

They're zombies.

It started small. People who were dead would come back to life, come back from the dead. But they weren't really alive...they would attack anything living, bite and chew and claw until they could eat their prey. In turn, their prey would become one of them. Killing their prey just made it happen faster. No one knew where they came from, or why. But before anyone could really ask...there wasn't much of anyone left.

It's only been a few weeks...maybe a month since this all started. I'm not really all that sure how long it's been. I do know one thing though: We are out numbered.

Chapter 1

Salone Valonte

The radio was nothing but static as I drove along the empty viaduct. In the passenger seat, orange-yellow dusk attempted to shine off the barrel of a handgun. The label "GLOCK 17 AUSTRIA 9X19" seemed to gleam off the light. I didn't really know that much about guns, but I knew enough that when you pulled the trigger, the bullet went where you pointed it. I snapped my eyes back up to the windshield...I was careless to take my eyes away from the outside. I peered around as I passed under a stoplight, the signal seemingly stuck on red. I shivered...every time I came into a town, it felt like I was being watched, like there were eyes watching me where I couldn't look. Hopefully, I wouldn't be here long. I was just raiding for supplies, to get some gas and other stuff, then get back on the road. I was on my way up north. To Canada, further if I could. Maybe there weren't any zombies there. Maybe they were all frozen.

I pulled into convenience store parking lot and killed the engine. I opened the door and got out of the car, stretching. It was a Geo Metro, found with the keys still in it, something I had trouble finding. It's body was dented and scratched, used on occasion as a battering ram to drive through the more stubborn of the zombie kind...I shivered again as I dropped my hands to my sides. My breath blew out in clouds in front of my face in the cold winter air, icy dry wind chilling me even deeper. I looked around before ducking my head back into the car, picking up my gun and closing the door. I'd only shot it once before, but I hoped I wouldn't have to again. Besides, noise attracted them...

I opened the door as quietly as I could, wincing when it made a routine "Ding!". I looked outside the windows to see if I was being watched. Nothing moved...yet I still felt like prey to someone's eyes. I scurried through the aisles, grabbing a plastic shopping basket and piling cans of soup and beef stew into it. Moldy dougnuts sat in a display case at the counter, where dried blood and a bit of tissue accompanied them. In the beginning, it would have made me gag, but now...it was different.

The cheery "Ding!" sound played again as I made my way out the door. I tried sneaking to my car, opening the door. I threw the basket into the back of the car, next to a small Coleman butane lighter, and a salvaged George Foreman grill, for whenever I could find a plug. I jumped into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind me. I heard a faint "pop" noise as I reached for the keys. I looked around, wondering what had happened. The popping noise came again, three times this time. Then it hit me: gun fire.

The little car screeched as I pulled out of the parking lot. Zombies didn't shoot guns, people did. It had been what seemed like an eternity since I had found another person. I flew through an intersection, begging the little thing to move faster. I barely made it around a corner as I turned, trying to follow the popping sounds. They were growing more frequent now, and louder. Apparently the noise had attracted even more zombies. I crossed another intersection, looking over out the passenger window as I did. What I saw horrified me: zombies, an entire mass of them, swarming around a large building. It was surrounded by a fence with barbed-wire on top, the structure itself painted an army-green. What looked like people were on the roof of the building laying down, or crouching. I hit the brakes, sliding pass the second intersection and more or less hitting the steering wheel. I reversed and turned the car around, going back the way I had came. Turning at the intersection, I sped down the street, barreling my way to the building. It took me a second to register that it was an Armory. I slowed down as I looked up to the top of it. There were two figures. One standing, the other crouched over, a large machine gun chattering away in his hands. Zombies fell left and right as he fired. I blinked when the gun moved, spraying bullets into the road in front of my car. I yelled and ducked, letting go of the steering wheel as bullets shattered my windshield, the car crashing into a fence on the sidewalk.

I tried to gather my breath as I huddled in the driver's seat. He'd shot at me...he had shot at me! Idiot!. What the hell was he trying to do?

I groaned as I sat up. My head ached, and my neck wasn't feeling too pretty either. Out the broken windshield, I could see the mass of zombies clambering around the fence. The machine gun still spit bullets, sending lead and fire into the undead corpses. Green and grey and dark purple flesh flew into the air, bodies literally being torn apart by the thing the man held. I sank back down into the seat. I figured I'd have to deal with whoever it was after this was all over. Besides, he had that big gun. I say let him handle those things...right?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Alexiev Sakorsky

I really was not in the mood to deal with creatures like this. It was one of the reasons I had come to America. To escape from danger, to get away from those who would want to kill me. Now, I had these bastards not one hundred feet away, who wanted to eat me. Some country.

"Neekole, get down! I am shooting!"

Nikole was a girl I had found on my way through the city. Unfortunately though, I had found a lot more than just her. Now, we had been chased by our little 'discoveries' and cornered here. Fortunately, however, we had been cornered in one of those 'weekend soldiers' National Guard armories. It was scary, what America kept in civilian areas. Scary indeed.

I hammered the trigger on the gun I held, the barrel spewing fire and bullets into the air. Chunks of rotten flesh flew across the pavement in front of the fenced off building, zombies falling to the ground and heads splattering whenever I had the time to aim. They seemed invincible, these things. They only seemed to stop when they had lost their heads. It was hard, aiming for the head with a gun like this. I sprayed the front line of the oncoming corpses before pulling back, loading another box of 7.62 NATO rounds into the chamber. I worked quickly, as those things would be able to make it inside the armory without suppression. My fingers flew over the gun, opening it up and removing the empty belt of ammunition. I dragged another over towards me, opening it up and grabbing the end of a belt. I tried to keep myself steady as I loaded it, closing the top of the breech back down, keeping the first cartridge firmly inside the chamber. Finally, I had finished loading my new toy. It was American of course, a large M60. It was a big gun, but the Americans seemed to have fancy for such big guns. I looked behind me for a quick second, checking on Nikole.

She was American, which was not saying much about her. Short, black hair ran down her head, accompanied by black eyes, encased in a pale face. She wore a black shirt that ended before her belly button. A thin, short black vest accented on her shirt, ending just before it hit her black pants. On her neck she wore a black collar-like necklace with a purple pendant in the center. I had heard stories from friends about people in America, who were called "Gothic" people. Her clothes reminded me of those people.

The M60 spit fire and bullets again as I turned back. I slowly moved it back and forth, trying to cut what was left of the zombies down. I was beginning to enjoy doing this. Every time I fired a shot, the gun jumped back against me. It gave me a thrill, cutting down these, these things... Up ahead of me, an engine roared. I looked up. Speeding towards the armory was a little car, light blue and covered in scrapes and dents. It was headed for the fence around the armory. As if it were going to go through it. As if. I readjusted the gun in my arms, firing at it. Bullets pounded through the windshield, causing the driver to loose the wheel and fly up onto the sidewalk, hitting a bricked fence. No way in hell was some mindless idiot going to pave down what I was trying to keep up. I brought my gun back down to the small remaining group. I took my time with the ones I had left, conserving my ammunition. I scanned the scenery in front of me before getting up, putting my gun over my shoulder. Nikole scoffed under her breath as I turned to face her. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest, tapping a foot against the roof. She opened her mouth...

"Are you done? Or am I going to have to take that thing away from you?"

I shook my head. I don't think she liked me very much.

"I am quite done, sank you. If you vould not mind, I vould like to investigate zat car."

She nodded. When she did talk, it usually didn't seem to be very nice. Maybe it was just the way American girls were. Maybe, she was just mean. I did not know. Women had always given me trouble. No matter though...with things the way they were, the opposite sex vas not a high priority right now.

I opened the roof hatch for her. She didn't even look at me as she walked downwards. I followed, leaving the hatch open. We made our way passed all of the lockers, with still open crates and boxes of ammunition lying about. Apparently, the soldiers that had been here had not been very good soldiers at all. I unshouldered my M60 and aimed at the set of large double-doors. Moving closer, I kicked it, ramming it open. Aside from the door banging against the steel that surrounded the building, all was quiet. I crouched, trying to sneak outside while lugging the gun. Nikole followed, strolling confidently like nothing was happening. We reached the car, nearing it on the driver's side. I jumped up, putting the barrel through part of the now-shattered windshield. A pale man sat inside, looking suprisedly up the barrel. I kept it on him for a moment before speaking.

"Vhat ees your name?"

His brown eyes flashed up at me, a small trickle of blood oozing from his dark hair. He bit his bottom lip before replying.

"I'm Salone. Now um...mind getting that thing out of my face."

Americans, cocky even when they're staring death. But he was the first human I had seen, aside from Nikole. I edged the gun back, giving him space to open the door and get out. He was tall, his skin the same pale tone as Nikole. He stretched as he closed the door, leaning against the car.

"So the who the hell are you two?"

"Zese ees Nikole. My name is Alexiev Sakorsky. But, if you vant, you can do vhat she does."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

I rolled my eyes. For some reason, People from the West had a fascination with shortening names.

"Call me Alex."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Salone Valonte

Great. This was fantastic. Not only were there zombies, now I'd found a commie. All my life I had been told about the Russians, and now I was staring one in the face. Our first encounters hadn't been that well either. He'd messed up my only transportation, and was now more or less holding me at gunpoint. It was a big gun too. Commie bastard...my position didn't really seem good. He was big himself, muscular and all. Course, I guess it wouldn't matter with the machine gun, but still...he looked like he could put someone in the grave.

However, Nikole was different. She didn't look that bad, although by the way her eyes seemed to say "Try it and die", I more or less figured there wasn't a chance. She was American though, so I suppose that was alright. Just, this Alex person, I didn't like him. Not much I could really do though...but, one thing was for sure: No way in hell was I going to let this chance slip by.

"So, you two have a car or something we can use?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. Apparently, I had been an ass in assuming that we would be a group.

"We? Ez zese a joke?"

"Not really, no. Think about it: You totaled my car, nearly killed me, probably damaged my supplies. Least you could do is let me tag along."

"Tag along? You are meestaken. Vhere do you sink ve are going?"

You know, this guy was kind of smart for a russian. I hadn't even thought about where they might be going. Maybe survival was more of a priority than moving along and trying to find a safe haven. Even if it meant in dangerous places. I tried to come up with a comeback, but he beat me to it.

"Forget it. Ve are going to stay vithin the ceety for tonight. Ve can establish a fortified poseetion within the armory, and stock ourselves veaponry. What supplies do you have?"

"Uhhh...let me check."

I ducked my head back inside the little Metro. Contemplating This Alex person's sudden change of mind, I quickly counted everything, bumping my head as I pulled out.

"Ah, shit...I um...I have some soup cans, Little Debbie cupcakes, Butane lighter, some cooking pans that need to be washed, um...power bars...oh! And a George Foreman grill!"

He laughed. I guess at me. What was wrong with a Foreman?

"I see...here, I vill 'elp you bring everything into ze armory. Later, ve can feegure out what ze hail we our going to do vith ourselves. Neekole?"

Nikole jumped, looking at him. For someone that seemed to have such a fiery attitude, she didn't say much. Matter of fact...I hadn't even heard her speak at all.

"What is it now Alex?"

"Take zese gun, put it back in ze armory. Just stay there, in case more of zose bastards decide to come. I am going to help bring in supplies before eet gets too dark."

She took the gun without a word. It was funny to watch, though. Alex handed it to her casually with one hand, and she had to use both her arms to hold it up. I watched her walk back towards the armory before going around and opening the other car door, picking up my own gun and fitting it partly into my back pocket before gathering things up. Alex pushed his large frame inside, getting all of what I couldn't carry. Hopefully, he wouldn't eat as much as he looked like he would, seeing as how it would have to feed three people for now. Something about Alex though seemed odd. Like different than the initial impression. I guess it didn't matter though. Even though we were from two different places, it seemed like I would have to take my pride and shove it. Besides, we were still fighting the same thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Nikole Hammond

Men were pigs, that's all there was to it. Even this Salone guy, with all this shit going on, was eyeing me up. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked back towards the armory. Even Alex had snuck a look or two. Even when there were corpses running around the streets, I guess it never occured to them that women might not be the highest of priorities? Idiots, all of them. But I needed Alex. So far he had protected me, and he didn't look like the kind of guy that would try things, so...yeah, I needed him for now. But this Salone guy? Just, no. He wasn't cool at all. And to make things worse...this gun was getting heavy.

I more or less dropped the thing after I made it inside the doors. Oh well...Alex could fix it, he seemed like he knew how to use a gun. Boys thought they were so cool because they could shoot each other. Pointless.

The sky was turning a deep shade of dark blue as the two numb-nuts came in. Salone was carrying a grill and a few cans of soup piled on top. Apparently, He'd made Alex carry the rest, what looked like a lighter and some junk food. Some supplies. I leaned against one of the lockers, watching them as they put everything down.

"So, which one of you boys is cooking?"

Alex looked at me as he straightened up. He caught some of his lazy breath before he replied.

"You know, I vas sinking. I 'ave not seen you do anysing productive yet, Neekole. Per'aps you would like to cook?"

Me? Cook? For _them_?

"If you think I'm going to cook for you two, you are seriously mistaken."

He blinked. Salone pursed his bottom lip. Just a glance told me he was trying to figure me out. I'd have to deal with him later. Alex did seem to be easily cowed, though.

"Alright, fine. I vill cook. Be varned though: I am not as skeelled with a spoon as I am vith a gun."

I smirked, giving Salone an evil look before pushing off the wall and walking back further into the building. It was going to be a cold night. Maybe those army guys had some sleeping bags lying around before they were eaten...I stretched, sitting down and leaning my back against a wall. In all honesty, I wasn't as mean as I made myself look to those two. I just didn't want them getting the wrong ideas. I had always tried to think things out, and my life had given me a lot to think with and about. If I seemed too dependant, they might see me as easy to take advantage of. I had to be smart, I had to establish that I wasn't going to stand for anything.

I took a breath before taking a look around, finding nothing but a door on the far wall. I closed my eyes... This whole mess about zombies was just unreal. Zombies weren't supposed to be real. They just weren't. How did they even get here in the first place? How? It didn't make any sense. They had killed what seemed like everyone. Everyone but us...but no. No, there were over six billion people on earth. Somewhere, there had to be someone else alive...fighting.

I opened my eyes again. Above the door on the far wall, there were a set of words I had missed earlier. I sounded out the words "Caution: Firearms, authorized personnel only". If these boys thought that they were the only one that could shoot, they had another thing coming. I got up, walking over to the door. The grin left my face though when I discovered the door was locked. However...

Crowbars had always worked nicely when it came to opening things. There were all sorts of various sizes of them littered over the place, so finding one wasn't hard. Instead of attacking the door though...I pulled my hand back, driving the crowbar into the top door hinge. The sound rang loudly throughout the place, but I wasn't concerned. If anything happened, Alex could fight it off. He seemed quite capable. I gave the hinge a few more hits before it clattered to the ground, the curved part of the bar making an excellent wedge. Wriggling it in between the now-bent door and the frame, I pushed it back and forth, widening the hole. After loosening it, I went for the second hinge. It was easier, with already being strained by the door moving. I pushed the door in, causing it to clatter and ring against the concrete floor. After waving my hand in front of my face to get rid of the dust, I looked around.

The entire room was decorated with guns. I picked one up off the near wall as I stepped in, one that looked familiar. It was black, with a folding stock and a laser under the barrel. I grabbed what looked like a couple of clips for it, stuffing it in my jean pockets. I heard the hurried footsteps of something from outside the doorway. I turned, aiming my gun as I stared down the barrel of a much larger gun. It was only Alex. Breathing a sigh of relief, we both let our guns down, looking at each other, before he opened his big mouth.

"M4A1 Carbine. Food is ready."

From what sounded far off, it seemed like I could hear the muffled choking noises of someone trying to swallow soup.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Salone Valonte

"I told you, I am not good vith cooking! You do not shoot sings vith a spoon! You stir them! I am a shooter, not a stir-er!"

Alex was definitely right about that. This was the first time I had ever had soup worthy of a fork's attention. If I hadn't been here to watch him make it, I'd thought he was trying to poison me. Didn't they have Home Economics in Russia? I had never had anything like it before. The bits of carrots were burnt. How do you _burn_ carrots in soup without setting the soup on fire?

Nikole wasn't having a good time either. She had on a brave face, but I could tell she didn't like it. And as much as she talked, that's about all I could tell from her. She swallowed a bit of charred beef down before trying to say something in a hoarse voice.

"On second thought...I'll cook next time."

I blinked. She was offering to cook? That was...odd, to say the least. I clearly remembered her saying she wouldn't. Or maybe, she was going to poison us? Nah, that couldn't be it. Maybe it was a joke, and she couldn't cook either...yeah, I bet that was it. It'll be so horrible, we'd have to eat Alex's crap. I looked over to him. Clearly, he was not enjoying the attention his chef skills were getting. He tossed the pan he was using for a soup bowl across the floor, getting up and picking up his gun as he walked out the double set of doors.

Nikole gave me a stare. It couldn't have been anything I said...all I did was choke. I returned her look, shrugging.

"Whaaat? What do you want me to do? He can't cook, means he can't cook."

She let out one of those exasperated sighs. You know, for a female, she was extremely ornery. Maybe she was one of those freaky people that loved hurting others? Or at least being mean to them. Yeah, that sounded about right. But so far, she hadn't done anything except shot down Alex's soup. And from the look she was gving me, she wanted me to do something about it. I tried not to groan as she opened her mouth.

"Salone, you're an idiot. I can tell you don't like him. Something about his country, isn't it? Something about him being Russian?. And you know what? You're an ass for being like that. Other than being a bit slow, he's not that bad. You should go out there and apologize, and stop being such a racist prick."

I reeled my head back. Holy...maybe it was better if she didn't talk at all.

"Holy shit, since when do you say over five words an hour?"

"Salone?"

"Yes Nikole?"

"Don't make me shoot you."

I rolled my eyes as I got up. It was girls like Nikole that made guys turn gay. Er...not that I was gay or anything. I looked out the double-door windows before moving them. Alex was outside, that machine gun perched over his shoulder. By the angle of his head, it looked like he was looking up at the moon. I quietly opened the door, walking the short distance to stand a bit beside him.

"Hey, Listen, um...look...I uh...I wanted to apologize for me being an ass man...I guess I shouldn't be, with everything like it is."

He shot me a look out of the corner of his eye before looking back up.

"In Russia, things are a lot 'arder than they are here. Eet ez a deemocracy now, but still a very poor country. Not only vas my family on ze poorer end of the spectrum, but my fathyer vas an eediot, and made the mistake of borrowing money from a local mafia setup. My entire family had to vork day and night to even hope of paying eet off. When I was five, my parents had opened a gunsmith and gun shop. Almost my entire life worked there, keeping the place going. Ze Mafia vas never satisfied vith what ve could provide them. though. Zey started keeling people. A deeferent one every veek. For years, ve had to go into hiding. Finally, about a year back, I could not take it anymore. I escaped ze country, and took a boat here. I came here to escape my problems. I came here for freedom. But you Americans, you have none! You do not care about anyvone or anysing. Eet disgosts me. I came here to get away from my country's problems...but now it seems that this one has it's own set..."

Hearing all that had made me feel bad. The guy wasn't bad I guess...just rough on the edges. I'd be the same way too if I owed some slimey bastard money who killed my family. I looked over at Alex. His gaze was now directed at the ground. I felt like I should say something...but I didn't know what. I let my brain pick the first thing that came to mind.

"Hey, Listen, um...about the soup though...it really wasn't all that bad."

He gave me another side glance.

"Salone?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't make me shoot you."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Alexiev Sakorsky

This sucked. Nikole was still being a cold bastard towards me, and now I had Salone trying to kiss my ass. Nobody, not even me, kisses my ass.

"Ve need to gather vhat guns and ammuneetion ve can, and head out. Zose sings vill come again. I am suprised zey haven't yet. Vhat ze hail are you waiting for? Move!"

Salone groaned as he rolled over. I had given him the luxury of sleeping until a little after dawn. Nikole and I had taken shifts throughout the night. We had decided that two people could take shifts, and one sleep. Hopefully, this would alternate, because I was really, really tired. Judging by the lines under Nikole's eyes, she was too.

"Salone, you lazy bastard! Get up!"

Nikole kicked him in his side. He groaned, sitting up slowly. His hair was a mess. Personally, I didn't care. Salone did not seem too warm towards me, so I was doing the same. He wants to be an ignorant dumbass, let him.

I told Salone to meet me in the ammunition supply room when he felt like caring. As I walked back deeper inside the Armory, I hoped I would not have to wait long. Nikole was searching around, packing up stuff into backpacks that we might need. So far, the only thing I needed was bullets. And from what surrounded me as I stepped into the room...I had plenty. This was the first time I had actually gotten to take a good look around. Firearms of every type seemed to decorate the walls. Boxes upon boxes of ammunition were lined up neatly in rows on the floor. It seemed as if the other two did not know their way around guns. I was going to see to it that at least they would have something that could compensate.

Finding what gun was right for each proved to be difficult. There were so many factors to consider. How much ammunition could one hold for each gun? Which was better for dealing with zombies? I figured a shotgun would suffice, but a twelve-guage shell took up so much room in limited space that it was hardly worth it. The M60 I had originally seemed to do quite well, and if I kept it aimed at head level, would probably manage to do even better. Nikole had found her an M4A1 Carbine, a type of assault rifle used by SWAT. At least, what might be left of them anyvays. Salone, on the other hand...

It occured to me that Salone didn't even seem to care about having a weapon. He seemed more cocky and whiney than he did concerned about staying alive. If anything, He would need something that could make up for that. Something small, yet usable. Something that used a normal round as well, as I feared that we might have to turn to raiding shops for supplies.

I found my answer when I spotted a dark, compact veapon, with a long curved clip. I knew what it was before I even saw the serial markings and logo on the side. It was a Heckler and Koch MP5. Nine millimeter. Nine millimeter sucked. But in the MP5's case, nothing sucked if it spit it out fast enough. Perfect for an idiot like Salone.

Shouldering a munitions pack, I began to load it with bullets. I strapped two boxes of 7.62 millimeter for my M60 to the sides. The only thing about a big gun is that it required a big supply of ammunition. It felt a bit heavy, but shouldn't hinder my movements too much. Besides, how much would I have to move to cut down corpses? Not a lot...the rounds for Nikole's M4 were more of a challenge. I had to check each clip I found to make sure that it was 5.56 millimeter. And since each clip only had thirty rounds, it was a bit of a task to make sure she had adequate ammunition.

Tossing a few 9 millimeter clips into my pack and grabbing the MP5, I turned to make my way to the door. Suddenly Nikole skidded to a stop right in the doorway.

"Alex, we might have a problem."

"Vhat is it?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she turned back the way she had skidded and took off. Cursing myself, I took after her. It was hard to run with all this crap on my back, but I kept with her. At the main area where we had been, she stopped. I looked around. Salone was standing in the double doors, his hands on binoculars covering his eyes. I assumed he must have found them lying around...convenient, what the army keeps. I walked over to him, looking to where he seemed pointed. Squinting, I could see what looked like a large speck in the distance. I tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He jumped slightly, but handed me the binoculars after a brief exchange of words. Focusing them, I looked to where he had previously been viewing.

Out in the distance, there was someone...walking. Gah, these binoculars were still blurred. I adjusted them to get a better view. After taking a second look though, I had rather wished I had stayed with the blurred.

It was a man. A tall man...muscular, dark, black skin...and covered in what looked like flesh. Lots of flesh. He wore what looked like was once some sort of dark blue uniform. On his shoulder, four undistinguishable yellow letters shined in the sun. His arm moved, going back behind his head, resting what looked like an assault rifle...M4...on his shoulders. I scanned the area around him, moving off to the left a bit, and then back...wait. Something had moved. I turned back to the left to see a zombie spring from some sort of building. It was lurching towards him, as fast as it could move on legs that still exposed bones, legs that showed the tissue of the muscles as they contracted and slackened. The man saw it. He stopped, turning to face it as it kept coming. Closing...closing...closing...it was nearly on him, what was he doing? He just stood there. He didn't even aim his gun. Shit, the zombie was right on him, no time to-. But as it came, something happened. He moved. And he moved fast. In what seemed like a motion only liquid steel could perform, the man unshouldered his gun, turned it sideways, and rammed the stock into the forehead of the zombie. With a sickening "Slush!" sound that could be heard even from here, the butt of the rifle penetrated the zombie's head, leaving a rotting crevace. The zombie dropped almost instantly. Lowering the binoculars, I turned to Salone.

"Holy Shit."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Nikole Hammond

I watched the guys stare off into the city. Alex had said something to Salone, but I hadn't heard what. I was too busy fixing up the damn backpacks. I'd assumed that since Alex had to be some kind of butch guy and carry all the bullets around, that there would only be need for two other backpacks. Each one had the same stuff, except for the one I planned to carry, which harbored Salone's Foreman grill. Other than that, it was the same: Some MRE's we'd found, a pot, some pans, flashlights and pocket knives found here and there. Oh, and crowbars...I couldn't forget those.

The two nitwits still hadn't moved. Standing up straight, I layed my hands on my rifle and walked over, looking outwards. I peered out across the city..and figured out what had them gaping.

"Who the...hell...?"

It was a...guy. A really big one too. He was built like some person named Rambo I had once seen in a movie. Only black. He carried his gun in one hand, leaving the other free. He wore some type of dark blue uniform...covered in what looked like...oh my god...flesh? He was covered in zombie bits! It was a wonder he was still walking...

But as he neared, on closer inspection, I didn't see a single scratch on his body. Not a single mark. Whatever this guy had gone through...he'd done it good. Very good. I hoped he was on our side. He walked slowly. He seemed to have some type of air about him, like...like an aura. Brimming with confidence and nerve. As he walked, his shoulder moved, revealing the letters 'SWAT' briefly. So that's what he was...He stopped at what was left of the armory gates.

"Captain Josh King, SWAT. What is your situation?"

This guy was authority. He was bristling with it. Like he wanted control...for once, I was glad that Salone was going to be an ass.

"Well, gee Mr. King, my name's Salone. The guy beside me is named Alex, and the chick back there's named Nikole. Our present situation as I have code-named it, is called 'Maximum-Fucked'. It means, we're fucked. Our destination is probably hell, but if you count the zombies, it will probably be changing to the nearest living person's throat. Byebye now, we don't need you!"

On second thought...maybe I wasn't. Josh looked slightly pissed.

"Is there someone else around here that doesn't have their head so far up their ass that they don't have trouble speaking?"

Alex stepped forward. He raised the M60 high off his shoulder, nestling it in his hands. He didn't seem to like the newcomer either.

"My apologies, sir. I believe that we have optimal variants for the aspects of our current situation. Our destination is simply out of town to go elsevhere."

The SWAT guy bought it. His eyes ran over us a couple of times. He looked old, like...thirty maybe. Late twenties, tops. When I thought about it, our little group was a bit on the young side. Salone was immature enough to be a seventeen year-old, Alex's face gave him away to be somewhere around twenty one, and I myself coming in at nineteen. This guy expected to just show up and become our leader. Pathetic.

"If you're going out of town, then you're going to need an extra gun. I take it you will not mind if I go with you."

Bastard thought he could just sneak in! That was the thing about the older guys...everything always their way...I turned, looking expectantly up at Alex. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Salone doing the same. We'd put him on the point, briefly had him become leader from some sort of nonverbal agreement. He didn't seem to mind...after a bit, he replied.

"Fine, you can come with us..."

Alex turned, walking back into the armory. mumbling one last remark.

"Bring your own damn food."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Joshua King

Kids. That's all these people were. Alex, the oldest, was at the most in his early 20's. They couldn't last long by themselves. I wasn't sure if I might have been better off alone, or with them. Although when it came to this Salone person, I think I preffered being by myself. Racist fuck.

I had gone to the armory to stock up on ammunition and maybe a pineapple or two. I had almost ran out of ammo, and didn't want to repeat the same mistake. They had made a complete mess in here...shells and guns laying about. No organization, no plan in these people what so ever. Being covered in zombie bits really wasn't helping my mood. This whole thing reeked of hopelessness and decaying body parts. And after leaving and making our way about the city, our current position wasn't that desireable either. Not only were they wandering aimlessly around the city, but Salone of all people was opening his mouth. Would it really be that bad if I were to put a grenade inside it?

"And over here, ladies and gentlemen, we have your typical american busted out building. Notice the hands and bits of fingers hanging from the windows, a true icon of American marketing. And here, we have a lovely half-eaten body hanging out of a car. This bold new revolutionary type of body modification first began with the idea of bonsai kittens, and-"

Alex glanced at me before looking to Salone.

"Salone?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

He canned it, but you could tell he wanted to go on. He was trying to be funny. Like this was some sort of game. He didn't seem like the serious type at all. How he had survived this long without any of the other two shooting him was beyond me. Even when he wasn't being an ass, his voice alone annoyed me. He was like this jerk I had known in high school. Now that I thought about it, he kind of looked like him too, just a bit shorter. He seemed to have the same intelligence though.

"So um...anyone care to think up what we're doing just wandering around like blind men at a nude beach?"

I kept silent. I had already felt cold shouldered from this group. That was natural though, and I was used to it. They taught you things in SWAT, in the army too. They teach you to be cold, to become a killer. The people you see aren't really people. They're an enemy. Faceless, lifeless. They're just a target. After a while, that's what everyone else becomes to you: Faceless. Unimportant. They can be useful, but all in all, they were still faceless in a soldier's eyes. My team...I had lost my whole team. But did I feel regret? No, I hadn't. I hadn't seen them all perish, but they had been taken under my command...the only regret I had felt was my lack of initiative. Lives, in my line of work, were nothing more but gamepieces to some sort of game. Like Pawns in the game of Chess.

Once again though, Salone and his idiocy had jerked me back from my thoughts.

"Hey, a train. I like trains. Anyone else like trains? Trains were cool, until the engineers became zombies. I don't like zombies. Do you like zombies, Josh?"

"Hell no."

"Kibble for you."

Salone stopped. Almost in unison, we stopped, turning to look at him.

"So um...I had this idea."

We all blinked. This ought to have been good. At least, if it hadn't came from him.

"Since like, it seems like all the cars are either torn apart or empty of gas and keys and all that good stuff...who wants to actually take a train?"

Yeah. Definitely good idea. Almost as good as trying to rape a zombie and stay alive. I couldn't resist this time. I had to shoot one back, for the sake of intelligence.

"Yeah, and end up where exactly? Underneath another god-damn train?"

This idea seemed to have sparked interest in Alex, however. I looked around, to see where Salone had seen this train of his. Off to the right, there was a set of several railroad tracks, with trains and cars scattered about. One of the boxcars was smeered on the side-in blood. Alex mumbled something off, pulling my eyes away from what looked like half of an arm holding onto the boxcar door.

"I actually like this idea. Besides, where else do we have to go? We are certainly not driving. A train could take us farther than anything else we have. I say we vote on it. Nod your head?"

Everyone nodded their heads. Except for me. Alex raised his eyebrows.

"Something wrong, swat man?"

"My name is Josh. This idea is stupid. We're better off shooting each other."

"Ah well, Screw you then. Ve are going to do this. Come or leave."

I reluctantly followed. These people were going to die sooner or later if they kept this up. No rationalization.

As we neared the trains, I could make out the words "Sante Fe" labeled on the side of the train. It was black, with this red area through the middle, bordered by yellow pinstripes. What looked like a leg dangled off the side of one of the handrails. There was something about the train that just looked...evil to me. It was probably all the blood I had seen along the other cars, but this...it was monstrous and silent. Like I should be afraid.

Salone hauled himself up the ladder on the side, before walking the pathway on the side of the train. One at a time, we followed, climbing up the ladder. I felt stupid, like we were playing some sort of "Follow the Leader". And unfortunately, Salone was the leader.

He waltzed up to the side door and opened it, stepping in. Any person with at least half a brain would have drawn a weapon first, but he was an idiot. Slowly, we all piled inside the cabin. With the four of us, it was slightly cramped. Salone looked around expectantly, looking as if he was waiting on someone.

"So um...who's driving?"

Alex blinked, raising his eyebrows.

"We were under the impression that you were able to drive one of these things. I've never been on a train before."

Salone shrugged. Great, this was just perfect.

"I uh...used to play Microsoft Train Siumlator. Why do you ask?"

But Alex never answered. Salone put his hand down on the panel on the front, not looking at it as he leaned back on his hand. I tried to keep from squeezing my eyes shut as an blaring horn screamed across the rail yard, through the city, everywhere around us...great fucking dammit! Now everything knew where we were!

Alex paled as off in the distance, a low moan snaked it's way through our ears.

"You know what? You figure it out. I'm going to be out there, making up for your fuckup."

He unshouldered the M60 he was carrying. It suprised me...the way he carried it, it seemed so natural. You almost didn't notice it unless he moved the gun. There was something of a soldier in his eyes, in his face. As he opened the door, I followed.

"I'm going too."

I closed the door behind me as I walked out. I could already see a problem: The big part of the train seperated the left and right sides. And since there were doors on both sides, they both needed protection. There didn't seem to be any ladders that went to the top of the train...it looked like it was just up to us to decide who took which side.

"Rock paper scissors?"

I nodded, sticking out a hand. I moved it up and down three times through the air before throwing out two fingers. Alex's fist stayed the same. Dammit.

"Eh...sorry."

I left him in silence as I walked to the end of the train, making the turn to get to the other side. Alex shouted at me as I made my way across.

"Good luck."

Good luck. Luck was for the ones who didn't know any better. But as I heard what sounded like the chorus of shambing, unearthly moans vibrating throughout the air, I wished I'd had all the luck in the world. And as I stopped walking...I felt scared.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Alexiev Sarkorsky

I looked up and down the side of the train, moving the M60 with my head. A belt of ammunition connected the gun to my backpack. I felt like this John Rambo I had seen from an american movie. It was times like this that made me wish I was American. They never had to reload in their movies. Hopefully, Salone would be useful. For once.

The moans continued to grow louder...more consistent, growing in volume. Up ahead on the tracks, I could see a group of zombies stumbling towards the train. Two shots blasted from the left side of the train. A two holes made their homes in the forehead of a zombie, causing it to snap back and fall to the ground. The others behind it fell, losing their balance over the now-unmoving corpse. THis Josh person was quite a shot. I pulled my M60 up to my shoulder, sighting in a zombie...then I heard it. A low, guttural moan behind me. I turned. Zombies! Zombies coming from behind! Screw it, Josh could deal with the front, I could take the back. I crouched down on my knees to give myself a more level position before opening fire. Round after round screamed through the air, blowing holes in their bodies and sending chunks of meat and bone flying. I tried to refine my aim, letting loose of the trigger and keeping it to short bursts whenever I could. I popped one in the the head, and it went down. I moved as quickly as I could while crouching to the back of the train. What was taking Salone so damn long? I moved closer, perfecting my aim as I put down three more. They didn't seem to move much, so that was a plus it seemed. Almost simple, in a way.

I finished with the group in the back before turning...what I saw made me want to cry for my mother. The front of the train was not surrounded, it was covered in zombie after zombie. Surrounding the front half completely. I stood, up, holding my gun like a normal rifle and hammering the trigger. Fire spewed from the barrel, hurling bullets through the air. They seemed completely unaffected! They only stopped when shot in the head...this seemed to be a very bad mistake on my part. The M60 was meant for mowing down people, not making headshots. I tried my best, aiming and firing off one or two rounds. Every now and then I seemed to hit one in the head, but the crowd was growing. They were still coming from the front. The bodies...the moaning...it was horrid. Like a ghastly chorus of undead. I couldn't hold myself back. This was too much, they were all around, surrounding us! I hit the trigger hard, screaming as I waved it back and forth. One fell. Another fell back. And then it happened...

The loud bursts of machine gun fire stopped. I hit the trigger as hard as I could. Nothing. I dropped my gun to waist level, looking it over. Dammit! A round had gotten caught in the breech of my gun, I had a jam! I dropped to the ground, working furiously, trying to get it unstuck. I had to be careful though-the jammed bullet might go off if I messed with it too much. The moaning...it seemed closer. I looked up. Near the back of a train, a zombie had managed to make it's way up the ladder. It was headed towards me! I was scooting myself back along the walkway, trying to fix the jam...but it was no use. It was stuck. It was stuck, and I was going to die while holding one of those most revered guns in the world.

The train started to hum...it roared to life. Finally, he had figured it out! But it was too late. We were going to escape, and I was dying. The zombie lurched closer...I kept moving back, trying to keep out of it's reach...I was shaking, I couldn't move anymore. I closed my eyes...suddenly I heard the sound of a three-round burst over my head, and something wet and cold splattered my shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked up. Nikole stood above me, her M4 in her hands. Looking back across the walkway, I saw three holes in the zombie's face. Putting the stuff on my shoulder and the lack of an eye together, it appeared I had been hit with eye-bits. Better than being dead...or undead, I suppose.

She reached out a hand, helping me up. We wavered as the train jerked forward, moving slowly. From the other side of the train, I heard the burst of gunfire cease. Nikole turned to the front of the train, leaning over the rail to take a few shots. There was a large squelching sound, followed by a series of cracks and poppings...It sounded as if one had gotten ran over. We were picking up speed, moving...There was more squelching noises. Zombies seemed to roll past us...Nikole fired off a few shots as we moved. We were going faster now, too fast for them to follow. I sighed, giving one last heave on the ammunition belt before feeling it jerk free. It could be reattached later...

" Eh uh...thanks, for that. I'm going to go check on Josh."

Nikole nodded to me, giving me the hint of a smirk before turning and opening the cabin door, closing it behind her. I made my way to the back of the train, being careful to not fall off-I had already fought enough for this damn thing.

I looked around as I turned the corner. If I weren't already leaning back from the wind hitting me, I would have been reeling. The entire side of the train was covered in flesh and body parts. Organs, pieces of bone...everything.

"Josh!"

The only thing I heard was the echo of my voice. Out of all the carnage, he alone was missing. I winced every time I took a step; the pieces of body parts were everywhere. As I put my foot down, I hit something hard. I looked down.

An M4A1 Carbine. Josh's M4 Carbine.

I picked it up with a shaking hand. It was clipless, like it was still in the process of reloading. No, this couldn't be happening. He couldn't be gone...could he?

"JOSH!"

Again, no answer. Overhead, the sky darkened as clouds began to thunder. I felt myself tearing up...I leaned back against the train, sinking down to the hard steel beneath me. It seemed like all this had just hit home. It was real...my god, it was real. I closed my eyes, trying to hold back tears. Cold, wet rain stung my face leaving me unsure if I was crying or if it was just the rain streaming down my face.

I got up once the rain got heavier. Holding my gun in one hand and Josh's in the other, I made my way back to the cabin...

It was real.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Nikole Hammond

The rain pounded against the windshield. Salone and I sat quietly in the two engineer seats, waiting for Alex and Josh to come back. A single windshield wiper wiped its way across the front of the train, more or less just changing where the view was blurry. Salone cast a glance over towards me, and we both locked eyes. After a few seconds, he looked away...he seemed almost caring.

The cabin door banged open. Wind and rain speckled in through the door way as Alex stepped in. On his far side, I saw the tip of a black barrel protuding from behind him before the movement of his trenchcoat blocked the way. It looked like my gun...Josh's gun.

I looked up at Alex's face. He was stark white. His face was grizzled and his expression contorted by the berration of the wind and rain. But it wasn't really his face I was worried about...it was his eyes. There was something in them. They were wide and glistening. It was something I hadn't ever seen in them...and as I stared into them, it looked like...fear. I had never taken much interest in his eyes, but what I saw chilled my bones.

Salone looked up, giving him a quick look up and down. He was going to say something...for once, couldn't he see that something was wrong? Where was Josh anyways?

"So um...I get you. But where's the other guy?"

Alex looked down at him. His eyes changed...he lowered his brows, wrinkles forming in his cheeks as he snarled.

"Here! Right fucking here he is!"

Alex raised his hand high, pulling Josh's gun up with it. He brought it down, crashing across Salone's chest. He flew back off the chair, landing with a loud thud. I...I couldn't move. This was too much. These two, fighting like this.

"Ow...fuckin' bastard. What the hell was that for?

Salone pulled himself up, his hand going to his back pocket for his gun. But Alex wasn't going to let that happen. There was a bright flash of fire, followed by a loud boom and sparks flying across cabin. Alex's big machine gun was staring Salone in the face.

"Drive these fucking train, or I promise you that I will refuse to miss again."

He did as he was told, getting up and slouching back down in the seat. Somewhere, I could feel myself tearing up. This just felt unreal, watching these two fight. They were the only two humans who existed to me now, and they were almost at gunpoint with each other. It just wasn't happening.

"So um...Josh is dead, huh?"

I looked up at Salone. His head was down, his eyes nearly closed as he seemed to stare at the control panel. He seemed dejected, resigned, even. Maybe Alex hitting him had done something...Alex didn't seem to care for what he had to say, though.

"Just shut up...and leave me alone."

Alex turned back around, walking slowly to the cabin door before opening it and sliding out. I watched his back through the window...He ducked down, most likely sitting his gun down. After a few seconds, he bobbed back up. The wind ruffled his hair and coat, The fog of the rain almost seeming to frame the window in some sort of unearthly focus. Like there was something about him...or maybe it was just Josh. Oh god, Josh...I really hoped it was quick...

I stood up, after what seemed an eternity inside my head. I dragged what felt like cement for feet over to the door. I stopped, putting my hand on the grip. I heard Salone's chair squeak behind me as he turned.

"Hey...where are you going?"

His voice was quieter. Calmer. It was starting to sink in for him. Shaking my head, I turned to eye him.

"Just drive the damn train."

"Yeah, I guess someone has to make sure we don't miss a turn or something."

I cursed under my breath as I unlatched the door, stepping out. I squinted, pulling up a hand in front of my face to protect myself from the biting wind. It was icy, the rain stabbing at my face like tiny needles. His back faced me coldly as I pulled myself towards him, using the rail to guide me. The wind whipped across my body. It made me wish I had more than this shirt and vest to protect me. Reaching up, I layed a hand gently on his shoulder. He tensed for a second, and then slackened. I let my hand slip off of his shoulder. Now that I thought about things, none of us really knew each other. Who knew what all might have gone through his mind, what might have been done to him. Alex was...the only thing I really knew about Alex is that he was Alex.

"Vhat is it...?"

He turned to face me. His eyes were wet, redness overtaking his cheeks. He was really devestated. I didn't know what to say to him. In all my life, I had never been the comforting type. But, for him, it felt like I should. Like I needed to.

"Look, Alex. I um...I'm sorry, that we lost Josh. He was alright, you know. He..."

He shook his head, passing a hand through the air. He sniffed, clearing his throat. His voice was choked, tears just now starting to recede in their flow.

"It does not matter. It ees nothing new. It ees simply the same, just performed by different...things. But that's it though, that's what it is. These things, these zombies. They're real. They're here. They exist, they vere right here in our faces..."

"Alex, I don't under-"

"No, you vouldn't, now vould you? You weren't here vith us trying to fight them off. You veren't having to kill these, these things that were once people I might have bought a drink from, or...or maybe talked to on the street, or gone out on a date with, or do anything else that people vould do normally. No, they're not themselves anymore, but the faces...their faces still have eyes, eyes and noses and ears and mouths that once laughed or sang or watched you or breathed in the smell of food cooking or heard someone talk about their life. You do not understand. But I do. Every time I have to protect you, myself, Salone...every time, I look into those eyes. Those faces. I see everything that no one ever should. Now, Josh. Think of Josh, being pulled, dragged off, shredded apart as he vas eaten alive. Think about him. Think about what he must have seen, about what might have gone through his mind as he died. He fought, and vas met with defeat. Can you understand that? Can you understand that fear, that these things will not stop? Not until every last one has lost their head? Can you understand all that? On top of everything that has ever happened, can you understand that none of it means shit anymore, and that nothing you say or do will change how they will ever see you? That you will be hunted? Or is that ze whole point? Zat I am here, I am protecting you, everything is alright. Do you see it like that? Or have you even thought that maybe, just maybe, there might be a chance that you could be killed as easily as I can blink? Did that occur to you, that they are actually real?"

I couldn't find my voice. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn't. My mind was locked up. My eyes began to burn as tears streamed down my cheeks. I threw my arms around him, holding onto him tight. I felt him jump, shocked at what I was doing, but I didn't care. Everything had fallen apart for me now. Everything he said had came crashing home. I buried my face into the front of his trenchcoat, sobbing...

After a few minutes, I felt the warmth of a hand resting on my back. Wiping my tears, I looked up at him. His brows were lowered and slackened, eyes red and blurry still from the crying. His other arm came around me, holding me close. He held me tight, keeping me safe from the rain and wind with his body. He leaned in close, whispering into my ear...

"It's okay...I'll protect you now."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Salone Valonte

I propped my feet up on the dashboard of the train. It was a nice train, for being a freight carrier. All nice and black and yellow and red and...and...what was taking those two so long? Why the hell had Alex gone off on me like that? If they were standing on different sides, in which I'm assuming they were, then how did he know he was dead? Maybe he pulled some of that S.W.A.T. kung-fu or martial arts or whatever and escaped or something? Besides, not like any of us knew him or anything. It's not like we were supposed to care for him. Still an ass by my standards.

There was a flash of light far off in the distance, followed by the rolling of thunder. I closed my eyes as the soft pitter-patter of the rain hit the windshield. It was lulling me to sleep, this rain was. The chair squeaked as I stretched my arms, putting my hands behind my head, drifting off...

I jumped as the door flew open, making a loud bang. I spun my chair around, looking up at the doorway. Both Nikole and Alex stood there, hair matted to their faces, and soaked in rain. They looked like they had gone through...well, a lot of rain. They stepped in together, their shoes making a bit of a "squish!" noise whenever one put their foot down.

"So um...where have you two been? Killing those high-speed zombies?"

Alex shook his head. Obviously, the noise of the storm had drowned out the tone of sarcasm in my voice. I grinned, looking over to Nikole. I dropped it though when I saw the gleam in her eyes. That gleam looked murder. Like, murder as in it made Marilyn Manson look like a kitten. And a de-clawed kitten at that. I'm not sure what Alex saw in her. Course, the only things I could see were on her, but that was just me.

She kept staring at me with that little gleam. Again, the gleam. I shuddered, turning back around. I didn't get to relax like that long though, as Alex was clearing his throat loudly.

"Hrm Hrm...Salone, I believe I might 'ave been a bit, erm...'harsh' on you. I um...I apologize for my previous actions."

I blinked. The lug was apologizing? That was...wierd.

"It's uh...nothing. Don't worry about it man."

I waved a hand through the air, although not turning to face him. Between the distant flashes of lightning, I could see a murky reflection of his face on the windshield. He looked stressed, worried. Everything else seemed blurred. His eyes...even from this angle, I could tell they looked pained. Like he had lost something important to his life. Like...wait. His eyes widened. He look frightened, scared. I looked ahead to where his eyes seemed to be pointing, curious as to what he had seen. As I did, what he said seemed to be the exact thought running through my head.

"Salone...ees that a train, up ahead?"

Oh shit. Oh holy shit.

"Yeah...it is."

Far down the tracks stood the silouhette of a freight train. It's black shadow seemed to be the focal point of the nightmarish bending trees and wind around it, lightning flashing over the horizon. But from here, it didn't look like a train. It looked like death. A lot of heavy, metal death. I turned slowly in my chair, facing Alex. My arms were shaking. Forcing them closed to me, I kept my eyes on him as he spoke.

"So um...vhat do we do, Capitain America?"

"First off, it's 'Captain'. Second, I can't stop it man. We're screwed. We're beyond screwed. We're screwed worse than Pamela Anderson drunk in a Mexican alleyway."

That seemed to take Alex aback. He didn't seem to know who this Anderson person was, but he could tell that her situation, compared to ours, suggested it was pretty grim. Nikole scoffed.

"Only you, Salone, would know so much about Pamela Anderson."

I was going to ignore that one. Besides, I still had to sort out my thoughts about Nikole. Something about her didn't seem to add up. Murderous at times, sulky on the others, and all closed and shy in the parts in between. Like a mask. I felt like she was hiding something of herself, but now was not the time for that. And after all, from what I could presume, she seemed to be Alex's girl.

"So um...any bright ideas, Salone?"

Alex looked hopeful. What did he expect? I hadn't even gotten out of high-school yet...well, in a way I had, but that was beside the point. Nothing I could think of would resolve the problem of train hitting train. And to make matters worse, we were closing fast. I had to think of something, anything...then it hit me.

"Hey Alex...you ever jumped off a cliff?"

"No, I have not. Although I will say that I 'ave jumped off a diving board at an eendoor pool."

"So um...what about a train?"

"...Excuse me?"

I could already tell he didn't like the idea. But there wasn't anything else we could do. It was either jump and maybe die, or sit here and get turned into cookie dough. And I had it of some reliable sources that human cookie dough was horrible.

Alex looked me in the eyes, staring me down before turning back to the door, pressing his face to the window.

"Alright zen. Let's do this. I would rather bloody a leg than lose my head altogether."

He opened the door, leaning his head slowly outwards with it. I pushed myself up out of my chair, following him and Nikole outside. The wind was howling, screaming and whipping at my face, blowing my hair in front of me. Alex and Nikole turned back. With a stinging feeling of confirmation, I registered the fact that they were holding hands.

"Me and Neekole will jump together. As soon as we do, follow behind us. Ve don't want to get too spread out."

I nodded my head. He pulled her closer, holding onto her tight. I tried not to watch as he looked back at me before standing at the ladder, where the railing didn't cover the walkway.

"Vone...Two...Three...oh, Three!"

They jumped. Almost instantly they disappeared from sight, their landing slowing them down tremendously. I hurried to the ladder, fixing myself to jump, before I realized: Josh's gun was still inside. Cursing myself, I rushed back to the cabin door, wrenching it open. Scrambling and slipping over the wet floor to the other side, I crouched down and picked up the gun. Standing back up, I looked through the windshield.

The train wasn't even a football field away. I couldn't control myself. Screaming, I ran for the door. As I bashed it open, I jumped over the railing. Grass and dirt and rocks hit me full force, turning and twisting my body over and over. Pain filled me as my arms and legs scraped against pieces of wood and the damn stupid gun I had gone back after. But as soon as the pain had registered, I was burned by a searing heat. There was a loud, earth-shattering explosion. The rolling and tumbling stopped, and I got a full view as the wreckage rocketed up, causing a flaming orange mushroom to billow and fly skywards. Fire and shrapnel rained everywhere, humongous chunks of the two trains flew around me.

I looked upwards. This big bolt came flying at me, whistling through the air. I was hit hard across the forehead, a horrible pain arching across my face, and then...

Blackness...


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Alexiev Sakorsky

"Salone!"

I called out across the wreckage of the train. Bits and pieces still smouldered, twisted metal and pieces of who knew what jutted up out of the grass all around me. Overhead, birds flew through the blue, cloudless sky. It seemed ironic to me, that there would be such a beautiful piece of sun and sky beaming down onto a scene of such destruction. But as I was coming to notice, there were a lot of ironic things.

"Salone! Can you hear me?"

Nikole and I had apparently been knocked out about the same time we made the jump. I lost my M60 almost as soon as we had jumped, the sheer force of colliding into the ground had shattered it. I myself was lucky to be in one piece, even if it was a somewhat bloody one. Scrapes and still-bleeding wounds from the previous night covered me. My trenchcoat was torn and ragged, Like someone had performed in a sword fight while wearing it and lost.

"Salone ! Vhere the hell are you? Bastard..."

I stopped as my foot hit something soft. I looked down into the grass, wondering what I had stepped on. There, his face covered in little trickles of blood, was Salone.

"Salone!"

I dived down, putting my hands on his shoulders. No, he could not be dead. Not again, not another one. I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, trying to wake him up.

"Salone!"

"...Yeah?"

The little ass-bastard! He wasn't even dead. In fact, he had been awake! He grinned up at me as he pushed my hands away, pulling himself to sit up among the grass. Taking a hand, he wiped a bit of the blood off his face. Little streaks of red were still smeered across his cheeks, but he didn't seem to notice. But I didn't care. Salone wasn't dead. He was here, alive, in front of me.

"What the hell are you staring at?"

I realized I had been staring at him. I looked away, abashed. As I did, I saw a glint of metal in the grass that didn't seem to resemble the surrounding wreckage. On closer inspection, it turned out to be the barrel of an M4A1. I picked it all the way up, holding the gun in my hands. I looked from it to Salone and back again.

"So um...you nearly died going back for zees thing?"

"Yeah. I figured it might still be uh...useful."

"You do know zat it is empty, right?"

He groaned. I was also coming to realize that thought wasn't Salone's strong point.

"Well that's...that's great. Just great."

I stood up, patting him on the shoulder before stretching.

"Do not vorry. There is extra ammunition for it, it's in my pack. We'll go back to Nikole and get it."

I offered out a hand, helping him up. As he dusted himself off, I took a look around. The area alongside the tracks were nothing but grass. Yellowish-green and brown stalks covered the area. On the outskirts of the grass loomed bent, crooked trees, their leaves gone with the winter. Now that I noticed though, it hadn't been nearly as cold as it had a few days ago. It was interesting, the weather they had here. Within a few days time, it could go from barren chills to warm, sunny days. I was going to have to find out where we were. Besides, wandering around aimlessly would only get us somewhere for a short while, and I wasn't interested in doing this for a living.

I nodded to Salone, gesturing to follow me as I started walking. He followed alongside, not saying a word. Up ahead, I could see the hunched over shape of Nikole bent over something. I winced when Salone's elbow jabbed me in the ribs.

"So um...where's that big gun you were carrying around?"

"I uh, lost it. It broke."

"Oh, that's um...that's too bad man. We got anything else?"

"Total, we have...two M4's, an MP5, and vhatever that is in your back pocket that you carry around. What for?"

But I never recieved my answer. As we neared, Salone stopped. His eyes went wide, his nostrils flaring as he paled. I looked back towards Nikole. She stood up, and I finally saw what, or should I say, who, she had been busy with.

"Why um...hey there guys. It's um...Josh.."

From his grassy bed on the ground, a bandaged up Josh King waved at us. From somewhere behind me, I heard Salone mutter something under his breath.

"Well. Can't wait to hear this one explained."

Judging by the condition he was already in, I couldn't either.

"So um...how ze hell did you survive? Do not get me wrong, I am glad you are here. But ve all thought you were dead. What happened?"

He stared Salone down, keeping his face emotionless as he talked.

"Well, glad to see you're concerned."

Nikole helped him prop himself up. Turning to me, she spoke words with a tone that could take the weather back down to icy.

"It seems that you're just overjoyed to see him."

I started to say something, but Josh waved his hand through the air slowly, cutting me off. Dropping it to his side, he cleared his throat. Salone and I sat down in the grass, listening to him. His voice came out weak and exhausted, like he had just ran a mile through a river. I eyed those bloody wounds. I hope they weren't what I thought they were...but I lost my concentration. I wanted to hear this badly.

"I fell off the train alright. Right as it started moving, I lost my balance and toppled over the side. I thought I was dead. But it turns out that zombies don't move too fast."

"What'd you do? Frag 'em all?"

Josh looked amused at Salone's remark. Reaching down to his leg, he pulled at the handle of a gigantic knife from a sheath built into his suit. From the detail and craftmanship, it looked like it came with the package of being a S.W.A.T. member. I snapped my head back up from the knife to Josh's face as he continued.

"A few, yes. It turns out, you have to go for the brain. That's hard to do with a blade, even a strong one like mine. I only took out a few. I had to scramble off through the forest, and they started following. All the underbrush and limbs slowed them down though, it's like they don't have any coordination what-so-ever. After about a mile, I stumbled back towards the railway...I've spent the most night running and taking short breaks. I only just got here about half an hour ago."

I nodded after the silence set in. It was bugging my mind though, about those wounds. Where had he gotten them from? Had a zombie gotten through to him? Had he been wounded? Was he going to...to turn? I couldn't stop myself. Quietly, I whispered my objections.

"And...those wounds of yours?"

He began to grin. I couldn't see what was so funny about being wounded. Looking up at me, he tried to hold back laughter as he spoke.

"Hey, I was hungry. You ever try to catch a raccoon with a knife?"

Everyone started to laugh. I didn't see what was so funny though.

What the hell was a raccoon?


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Nikole Hammond

I was worried about Josh. He pretended to be alright. He was talking, walking a bit even. His ankle was a bad mess, but he was still able to walk. Both of the other two didn't seem to really care though. They had bought his story. They believed him. But I...I knew different. I kept running it through my mind, playing the memory over and over...

I was going through my backpack, looking for something to eat. It had been almost a day since we had eaten, and my stomach wasn't feeling as well as it should have. Alex had gone off looking for Salone, so I had time to collect my thoughts without anyone else around me.

Digging into my pack, I found one of the military MRE's. I pulled it out, looking it over. The case was made out of metal, with some heavily scratched words printed on the front. Opening the top, I found nothing but a black, plastic like pouch inside. Picking it up, I made out the words "MEAT LOAF" printed on the side. It was hard from the slight chill in the air, but still felt rather squishy. I was disappointed. I didn't really like meatloaf all that much, and plus it was already cold. However...

Diving back into my backpack, I found Salone's butane lighter. Putting my hand over it, I gave it a tug. There was a soft "Hiss" sound as I pulled it out. Looking it over, I found a crack in it's side. The gas inside was slowly ebbing away. Great, this was fantastic. The lighter was broken. What else could I warm it up with now? Sighing, I did the only thing I could do...

I slowly lifted my shirt up, putting the cold pouch on my stomach before quickly pulling it back down. I breathed in sharply. God, it was cold! But it was the only thing I could do to warm it up. My stomach was becoming numb, trying to get used to the cold plastic against it. Breathing in and out sharp breaths, I tried to ignore it. I closed my eyes...just a bit more. Just let it get warm...

From behind me, I heard the crackle of leaves and twigs being crushed. I turned my head, looking at a pair of torn and bloody dark blue pants. My eyes went upwards...oh my god...

"Josh!"

I jumped up, running to him. He had survived! He wasn't dead! I skidded to a halt, however, as he drew a large knife.

"Stay back, Nikole. It's...it's too dangerous."

He had taken me aback. I didn't understand. What did he mean? He had gone through a whole group of zombies with just a knife, how could it be dangerous? But then...I looked downward. His right ankle was a horrible mess, dried blood and even thin strands of flesh covering what should have been part of his leg. I looked back up to his face. Slowly, he put the knife away, His forehead was laced with beads of sweat. His nostrils flared every time he breathed. He gasped for breath. I edged towards him, wondering what was wrong. I stretched a hand out, gently feeling of his forehead. He was...he felt hot. He was on fire. He had a horrible fever. I pulled my hand back, turning it over, watching it. I didn't understand though...what was wrong? Why was he so sick? Why- Oh my god. No...

"I...I was bitten."

"How long ago?"

He swallowed, trying to get his breath down. It was getting to him. Whatever it was, it was tearing him down. Already trying to turn him into something he was now destined to be. No...we had already lost him once. Now, we were going to lose him again.

"About six hours, give or take. Listen, you need to move. They're coming up the tracks, they'll be here within a few hours. We...we..."

He was swaying now. I put my arms behind him, helping him lay down. He drew ragged, uneven breaths. Tearing off a small chunk of my sleeve, I put it around his ankle, covering up the nbloody mess. I tied it off, but now it didn't seem like there was much of a point. He cleared his throat, speaking in a hoarse voice.

"Don't...please don't tell the other two about this. I want to be Joshua King as long as I can. Promise me...promise me you won't tell them?"

What could I do? He was dying...he was more than dying. It seemed so important to him. It was like a last wish. I couldn't deny it.

"I promise, Josh."

He nodded to me slowly. My vision began to blur as I tried to hold back tears. I was watching someone die, and I couldn't do anything about it. It just felt so wrong, to sit here beside him, and not offer him any comfort, any type of help.

"Josh, is there anything I can do for you?"

He looked up at me through pained, tormented eyes. He moved his lips, his voice almost coming out in a whisper.

"Some...some food would be nice."

With a slight bit of redness in my cheeks, I remembered that I still had the pouch of meatloaf under my shirt. Pulling it out, I ripped it open, handing it to him. He grasped it slowly, lifting it up to his mouth, letting some of it slide in. He barely chewed before swallowing it, trying to put on what looked like a brave face. After a few seconds, he said in a somewhat stronger voice...

"This tastes like shit, Nikole. You...you were going to eat this?"

...I looked over to Josh. Just glancing at him made me feel sick. He'd gotten a bit better over the food, but...he was still sweating. I could tell he was in a lot of pain. He was tough, to be able to all of the sudden, hide it from the other two. And they were just stupid, idiotic for believing that a raccoon could do so much. I wanted to stand in front of them and scream to them that in a matter of hours he would be trying to eat us. But I had made a promise. I couldn't tell them. I sat there blankly, not listening to them as they spoke. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. He was dead. He was as good as dead. But he could still talk and walk and think and reason. He was alived, but dead. Oh, Josh...what was I supposed to do?

I was taken from my thoughts when I noticed something was pressed against the palm of my hand. Looking down, I noticed I had been gripping my gun. I loosened my grip, but didn't take my hand away. It was too dangerous now, to let it be anywhere else than my hands. And as I looked at Josh...it only made me tighten it once again.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Alexiev Sakorsky

I didn't buy it for a second. Josh didn't look like he was in good shape. He was sweating like he had a fever, his hands were shaking. His eyes seemed to flicker in between recognition and then unrealness. No way some sort of 'raccoon' bite could do that. Besides, Josh had been light about it. He had made it out to be a joke. From what I had seen of him...Josh didn't joke.

"So um...hey Josh. You um...feeling okay there man?"

Salone gently nudged him with his foot. Josh seemed startled. His eyes snapped up to Salone, going wider and then squinting as he tried to focus on him. Josh moved his lips, trying to form words with the shaky breaths that came out.

"Y...yeah. J...just a...I think I...I caught s...s...some...somethin'..."

Quickly glancing over to Salone, we both met eyes. With a slight nod, it came to my understanding that for once, me and Salone were on the agreement of something. And as much as that would be a good thing...I wished this wasn't it.

Josh dropped his eyes again, taking in a gasping in a deep breath as his eyes flitted among the grass, watching it with what seemed the greatest of paranoia. It made me feel uneasy to be so near him. Looking around, my eyes settled on Nikole.

"So, um...vhat do you propose ve do now?"

She blinked. Glancing at Josh, and then back on down the tracks, she swallowed before answering.

"Josh um...Josh said that those...that those things had been following him. And um...I don't think he can walk right now. He doesn't look fit for it. You um...you two should carry him. We should probably follow the tracks, to the next city. See what we can find."

I nodded slowly. It was the only thing I could think of to do anyhow. We definitely were not going to go back, and we would only end up wasting what little we had left here if we stayed...

"Alright zen. Salone, get his legs. I'll get the top half."

I positioned myself behind Josh, bending down and taking hold of his shoulders. Salone stayed planted in his spot though. Looking up, I gave him a scowl. He winced slightly, looking back between Josh's face and mine.

"Aww..come on Alex. Why do I have to carry his legs? I might get- er...rabies or something. Yeah, like a disease."

"Salone?"

"Yes Alex?"

"Stop being such a pussy and pick his legs up. I vant to get out of here."

Reluctantly he bent over, gingerly taking hold of his legs and lifting them upward. We picked him up together, Salone resting Josh's legs on his shoulder, and me wrapping my arms around him to keep his own in place. His skin was unnatrually hot, even too hot for what seemed like a fever. Having him this close to me, literally on me, made me feel nervous.

"Neekole? Can you carry ze backpacks?"

She nodded to me, sliding one on to her shoulder and holding the other, walking calmly in front of us. Awkwardly Salone and I walked, trying to be a bit careful of how we carried Josh. We were gentle, if maybe not entirely him, than for the sake of ourselves. It was bad enough to lose just one person. One person could mean everything. As Stalin once said, "One dead, is a tragedy. One million deaths is a statistic." About right now...that one death was becoming quite a tragedy.

We slowly passed the wreckage of the previous night's train collision. Smoke still wafted up from the jagged metallic mess that had once been two working objects, objects of machinery operated by humans. Humans who probably no longer existed. Humans who would never laugh or smile again. Things that were now just mindless bodies bent on the feeding of human flesh. Human flesh that I personally, wished to keep on my person.

After a few minutes of stumbling and frequently tripping ourselves over the track, the outline of buildings appeared on the horizon. Nothing was said though as we continued on. Everyone was being quiet, they seemed lost in their own thoughts. Nikole had to have known about Josh. I knew about Josh, and Salone...he let on more than he liked people to think. Everyone knew what had happened without allowing anyone else to know. We were keeping it from each other when we knew that everyone else was aware of what was wrong. It was like pretending someone didn't have a disease, yet trying to stay away from them without allowing anyone to know that you knew.

We slowed down as we came upon the buildings. Except for the dull call of the pigeons, everything else was silent. But even for an empty city, it seemed too quiet. Looking up at the skyline, searching across the rooftops of buildings, a glint of light reflected off into mny eyes. I squinted, trying to see what had caused it. As I did, the glare died down enough for me to register the outline of an unmoving, lumped shape...and the scope of a sniper rifle staring down at me. And then, it happened...

My vision seemed to explode. I was blinded. Then as soon as it happened, it was clear again. Only it wasn't my vision. It was me. I saw me. Me, in the snow, in Russia, running for my life. It was everywhere. Flashing, back and forth. Screams, gunfire, the bodies of parents and friends and family, cold corpses etched upon the snow. The glint of a sniper's scope, the loud report of the round as it flew threw the air, the dull sound as the bullet penetrated my sister. The soft brushing sound the snow made as she fell. The fall of snow mixing with her blood, the redness staining the pure whiteness around her, framing her shape into the ground. Scope after scope after scope, light, bullets, sounds, everywhere, everything around me, everyone was dying, screaming, running, bleeding, asking for me to save them. Dying in my hands, asking me to help...

"Alex, get DOWN!"

I came crashing back to my own world, finding my heart was thrusting blood throughout my veins. The loud explosions caused by a hunting round echoed off the sides of buildings, The sound of bullets bouncing off concrete and steel. Nikole was crouching on the ground, pouring round after round from her M4 up at the building where that someone had started shooting. Salone jerked his head at me, and we quickly ducked behind a wall, laying Josh down. I stood up quickly, about to rush to aid Nikole when I felt something warm and wet on my cheek. Rubbing it off and pulling my hand away, I found a streak of red liquid dripping off my finger.

Looking slowly down at Josh, I stood frozen in horror as I took in everything about his face: His half-open eyes..his dark lips...and the sweat, the sweat that was surrounding a small hole in the center of his forehead.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Nikole Hammond

I rammed another clip up into my rifle, securing it before hammering away at the skyline of a building. He had already shot once. I wasn't going to give him a second chance. Not after...not after the first one he made.

Salone came dashing over, pulling the pistol out of his back pocket and aiming it up at the building, firing off a few nervous shots. His aim went wide, bullets hitting several feet below the edge of the roof. It was as if Salone had never even shot a gun before. He was only holding it with one hand, posing as if he was some idiot off of a movie. He really was an idiot, thinking what he saw on tv was the same thing as real life.

His pistol started clicking after only a few rounds. Dropping it, he ran quickly over to me, ripping open the other backpack and rummaging around in it. Looking back up at the building roof, I saw a grey cylinder-like object go flying over the edge. I jumped to my feet, backing up several feet before studying it. It didn't look like any type of hand grenade that I had ever seen...but then, it happened. It exploded. Everything went white. I was blinded, but instead of everything being dark, my vision was filled with a searing white light. As soon as I had been blinded, an ear-shattering noise followed. It felt like my eardrums had exploded. I couldn't hear anything but a loud ringing, everything else was completely cut off. My eyes, my ears, they hurt so bad...I dropped my gun, closing my hands over my ears and shutting my eyes tight. I stumbled around, cursing and shouting. I stopped suddenly when I felt a cold metal tube pressed into my chest. I held my breath. My heart frozen. Opening my eyes, I found my vision starting to come back. Blurred objects shifted lazily across my eyes, still trying to recover from the sudden light that I had seen. Most of my sight was taken up by the image of a thin face, spruced with what I thought was blonde hair. His jaw moved lazily. I couldn't tell what he said. He jabbed the tube again, what I could now distinguish as a barrel. Removing my hands from my ears, I could now hear him speak.

"On the ground. Now."

I did as I was told. I lowered myself slowly, getting on my knees and putting my hands behind my head. Looking up briefly, I could see him more clearly now. He had a thin, handsome face, with short blonde locks of hair curling their way down his forehead. He had a small nose, set in between two light green eyes. He had large lips for a guy as well. His boyish demeanor almost made him look fruity. But the big gun in his hands changed all that.

It was large. From the size of the barrel and the feed tube under it, I could tell it was a shotgun. It was the largest I had ever seen though. The words "Browning Automatic" glinted off the side, the glare hurting my still-strained eyes. Tilting my head upwards slightly, I caught another glimpse of his eyes. They met my own. For a brief moment, our eyes were locked. His face softened, his posture went lax. At the sound of a voice behind him though, he tensed up again.

"Well, hello hello Mike. What did we pick up?"

The shotgun guy, (Mike it seemed) turned at the sound of the voice. Looking past his legs, I could see who the other person was. My eyes traveled up his legs...his chest...his face...

He looked about as gruff as his voice was. He had the shadows of a dark brown goatee. His hair was dark brown as well, large tufts sticking back behind him, giving his hair the appearance of being a furry hedgehog. Even behind hin, it fanned out in downward spikes. Looking back into his face, I studied his eyes. They were light grey. It was wierd for me. I had never before seen grey eyes. He saw me studying him, and I dropped my gaze from his eyes. His lips curved upwards, forming a small smile as he spoke.

"I would advise that you refrain from staring me up. I'm quite taken."

I blushed, looking away. Mike's feet shifted slightly as he cleared his throat.

"So um...what do we do with her?"

Mike had a bit of a high-pitched voice. Boyish, just like his face. I caught myself looking at him again. I turned my gaze over to the other guy. He said nothing, but instead approached me. Stopping just a foot or so in front of me, he offered me a hand, helping me up.

"My apologies, for my...uncalled for introduction, earlier. My name is Trent Lockewood. And this, is my...er...companion, Mike Realton. And you might be...?

I let out a quick sigh before speaking. Glancing off to my right, I noticed that Salone just happened to be no where in sight.

"My name is Nikole. Nikole...Greyson."

Looking into his eyes, I winced slightly, registering the fact that he knew I had lied.

"I see...I erm, hate to be blunt in my asking, but I must press a question of mine. When you appeared in our view, you were accompanied by two males, and one...one infected. I regret to inform you that I have terminated the infected male, but I am curious: Where might the other two be?"

"I don't know, Trent. Salone makes himself scarce whenever it suits him, and the big russian is probably somewhere close enough to rain enough lead on you to cover a third world war. You want to know what I'm so curious about though? Why the hell did you shoot Josh? Why, Trent? Why did you kill him?"

I made an advance towards him. He took a small step back, unshouldering a large rifle from behind his back. A sniper rifle...

"My dear woman, please do not upset yourself. There was no hope, prolonging his life would only have made him suffer more. I gave that man a blessing. He is in a far better place than he would have been if he had remained. Now, I ask of you to consider my question. It is in your best interest to do as I say. I do not wish to make this an involuntary ordeal."

Sighing, I dropped my eyes. I felt abandoned, like this. Salone had ran off on me, and Alex...Alex hadn't been there. He hadn't come to save me, to protect me...protect me like he said he would. After what had happened on the train, he had sounded so sincere. He sounded...he sounded just like everyone else in my life had sounded.

A gurgling sound made me look up. Trent spun around to look at Mike. His face had gone pale, his eyebrows raised and his eyes widened. There was an arm wrapped tightly around his middle, a second pressing a large knife into Mike's throat. Over his shoulder, I could see Alex's face. Alex...Alex, who was there.

"Drop your gun, or I svear to you that I vill cut this man's throat out and strangle you with it."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Salone Valonte

I stayed huddled behind a low wall, cutting off my view with what was going on with Alex and the rest. I held my hand in my head, trying to clear my thoughts, trying to sort out what had happened...but I knew what had happened already. I had run away, like a scared little kid. That's all I was. I was just a little kid. When I was needed, when Nikole had taken the full force of that flash grenade, I had scampered off, scuttled away into hiding. I felt like a coward.

There was talking going on behind the wall. After a while, I heard the clatter of what sounded like metal objects hitting the ground, followed by the quick shuffling of feet. Alex's voice soon followed, calling out my name.

"Salone!"

Standing up, I took a peek over the wall. Alex was holding two people at gunpoint with what looked like a very big sniper rifle. Next to Alex, Nikole was poking the barrel of a shotgun into the chest of one of the guys. I specifically heard her say "How do you like your own crap shoved in your face?" while I gathered up the courage to say something.

"Y...yes, Alex?"

"Get over here, and meet our new...'friends'. These are za guys who killed Josh."

Pulling myself over the wall, I saw Alex twitch involuntarily. I stopped, puzzled at first before his words finally registered...

Had they really killed Josh?

Thinking back, I tried to recall what had happened. There had been a glare of light. Alex had froze. There was a gunshot, and then another. Nikole had grabbed her gun and started firing...shouted at Alex...then he had shaken himself up and helped carry Josh out of the way. Looking back to where we had lain Josh, I studied his body. He...he didn't move. Matter of fact, he hadn't moved for what was more than natural. He...he really was dead.

Before I knew it, my insides were swelling up with fires and rage.

"You...you bastards. You freaking bastards. Why, huh? Why kill Josh? What did he do? What did he do to you? Answer me!"

Before I realized what I was doing, I was screaming into the one of their faces. He had startingly bright eyes that seemed to be grey. Grey-Eyes stared at me defiantly, his demeanor and facial expressions unwavering as he opened his mouth.

"He was already infected. I saw the bite mark on his leg. I did him and the rest of you a favor. But if you would be so kind as to remove your head from your rectal cavity, I would like to inform you that there are a bit more pressing matters at hand."

"The only 'pressing matter' here is how we're going to put you down. Right, Alex?"

I looked up to Alex. He seemed to be staring off into the distance, up into what was soon going to become a dark blue horizon. On the very edge of the sky, a plane drifted slowly by, leaving white trails of puffy smoke. Wait a second...

A plane?

"Hey, guys! Look at that, a plane!"

I pointed up into the sky like a four year old pointing at a giraffe. Everyone's heads snapped upwards, watching it pass. Nothing was said for a long while, until Alex decided to clear his throat.

"You know, I actually vould not mind hearing these 'more pressing matters' of yours now, Trent. Vhat is it that you speak of?"

Grey-Eyes who was now seemed to be named Trent, turned to Alex. He calmly opened his mouth, speaking in a smooth, soft tone.

"That's exactly what this is all about. Did you see that airplane in the sky? I can guarantee you that that airplane will never see a runway ever again.."

Almost on cue, a pair of twin fighter jets screamed across the sky, heading off towards the direction of the airplane. My mouth was slightly ajar as I lowered my gaze back down to Trent. He blushed slightly, continuing his story.

"Right then...As I was saying before, that airplane will never see ground. It's flown a bit too closely to something that it wasn't supposed to see. All of this...this whole area, probably this entire state, is quarantined by the government. Nobody comes, nobody goes. Nobody knows."

I was confused. I wasn't the brightest little crayon, but his articulation of speech confused me. However, Alex seemed to have the same problem.

"Vhat are you trying to say here?"

Trent sighed, taking in another breath.

"What I'm trying to say here is that in a short matter of time is that we will all be dead. This entire thing is already covered up. It's nothing but one big military exercise, designed to test a new toy of theirs..."

"And uh...vhat exactly, is this toy supposed to be?"

I could tell that Trent was enjoying this. He was playing the role of the intelligent, almost all-knowing informant, and he knew it. Striking a facial expression that could only be justified for a cheesy cult movie, he went on, relishing in the spotlight.

"A weapon."

Somehow, I had felt like I knew he was going to say that. What else could it have been? A dogsled? Apparently though, Alex had not seen much of American movies. Looking taken aback, he took a small step closer, lowering his voice.

"Vhat do you mean, 'a veapon'?"

"Exactly what I said. Oh, don't get me wrong. They didn't create these things. They probably stole one from another country, just like they do everything else. But the principle...the sheer magnitude of what these things can do...well, it's something to be sought after, now isn't it?"

Alex shook his head.

"Nyet, Trent. I do not follow."

"Ugh...look at it like this: If America were to have an enemy...let's say, China, and we wanted to devestate them, in ways scaling from financially all the way to politically, we could easily do so. A plague such as this, in the streets of China? Person after person infected. The government being criticized for not being able to effectively handle this threat, With all the knowledge on how and why in the hands of people who started it. But of course, to do so, one must have such a weapon tested. Tell me, any of you, how far have you been since this outbreak occured?"

No one said anything for a long time. Chirping in my thoughts, I muttered a reply.

"Well...I think I've been driving since...Oklahoma. Not sure where I am now."

Trent smirked. Watching his eyes, I thought I saw them breifly give me a quick up-down look. I hoped I was seeing things.

"Well Salone, guess what: You're still in Oklahoma. Imagine that, eh?"

I blinked. I had been on the move for almost a month. How...? But no, he had yet another answer, his talk the only thing keeping him from grinning. This guy just had to be gay.

"Like I said: quarantined. Did you ever noticed that, when driving, that pileups of cars and sings just seemed to...I don't know, seem to block any one way of moving? That you always had to double back? Ever wonder why you seemed to always find a way somewhere, but find the route you needed not accesable? Think about it for a second. Did it ever look like you saw the same signs in different places?"

Now that I thought about it, I started to put things together in my mind. I had always found myself on small roads and never long enough on the freeway. The one path I always wanted to take was always blocked off by something. I had never tried to link coincidences together, but now that I did...I felt like I was being choked by the chain they were forming. And Trent was getting ever more annoying about it.

"Now now, it gets much worse...you see, the point that I am coming to is that we won't be leaving this place alive.."

Everyone was already too stunned to really say anything. Trent seemed to mistake this for disbelief on his previous statement. Adding one last thing, he took a deep breath.

"That's right, ladies and gentlemen. We're going to die here."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Alexiev Sakorsky

This Trent guy had to be a bit touched in the head. It was the only way to explain it. He had the calm demeanor, outlandish claims, and the hair to accompany his wild accusations. He made Bill Nye look normal, if only by slightly. He was chattering along to Salone, his gestures and movements almost making him seem like some sort of ballroom dancer. I let my arms go lax, giving up on keeping this Mike person as a bargaining chip. He dropped to his knees as I let go, his hands going to his neck. For someone who wasn't hurt, he sure made it seem like he was in agony.

Trent turned back, looking down at Mike as he gasped for breath. He was acting like what it seemed Americans liked to call "Drama Queens". Offering a hand, Trent helped him to his feet, giving him a quick look-over as Mike dusted himself off.

"Are you okay Mike?"

Mike nodded his head, breathing out a long sigh. The two locked eyes for a moment, staring into each other before Trent looked away, clearing his throat loudly.

"As um...I was saying, this entire area is quarantined. Right outside of the city, there is a small task force consisting of troops and armor to ensure that no one escapes. My best conjecture as to why such precautions have been put into effect is that they were a bit overwhelmed at how..."effective" these undead beings are. It would most likely be in our best interest to find a subtle method of escaping the city, as we are ill-equipped to neutralize superior weaponry such as theirs."

I slid Josh's knife into the pocket of my trench coat. Looking around, I saw both Nikole and Salone eyeing me. What did they want me to do? I was in the same mess that everyone else was. These two seemed like they knew what was going on. Might as well follow the idiot who knows what he's doing than, to follow the intellect who had no insight. Looking back to Trent, I saw his eyes looking back over my shoulder. He seemed uncertain, almost alarmed at something. In a now somewhat-shaky voice, he choked off a few words:

"We need to move."

What looked like hell itself erupted from the ground. The earth shook, putting just about everyone on the ground. Dirt and bits of rock rained from the sky. Flipping over, my sight met with the smoking barrel of an M1A1 Abrams. A freaking tank.

"Get up! Move move move!"

Trent was shouting, scrambling up and diving for cover. Salone and Nikole clawed their way behind the corner of a building. I hauled myself to my feet, looking around quickly. It was just me, out in the open. I bolted, running across the street to my right. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the barrel following me. A mailbox exploded as I dove into an alleyway, sending blue and black shrapnel hurling through the street. What the hell was going on?

Had Trent been right about this being a cover up?

I felt my knees buckle. I let myself fall back against the alley wall, sinking to the ground. I felt my arms beginning to tremble. The adrenaline was pumping through my body, with nothing to burn it on. There was no way in hell I could out-run a tank. Not an Abrams. I was starting to shake harder now, more from being scared of the sound of rocks being crushed by the treaded wheels than anything else. It was like I could see everything happening in my mind...the tank rolling by the alley. The barrel swinging around. The explosion as the shell went right through me, tearing me to pieces. I could see it all, I could see my death. Mine and so many others before me, I could see it.

The sound of footsteps ricocheting off the alley walls perked my ears. I looked up, seeing Trent dash out from his hiding place. Quickly following his path, I saw what he was running for: His rifle. What the hell was he going for his rifle for? An M40A1 was an excellent rifle, but was completely useless against a tank...

There was a low grating sound as the barrel just barely came into my view, the very tip following Trent. I turned back to watch him. The tank fired. The sheer concussion issuing from the barrel barraged my ear drums, loud ringing noises pounding inside my head. I could feel my heart in my neck, the pounding filling my ears. It only helped emphasize what happened next.

It was as if some great cosmic being had slowed down time itself. Trent ducked. His hands went over his head, his entire body tucking down into a ball. A scorching heat wave went flying past him by what seemed barely a few feet, the tank shell missing him by just a slight margin. Off in the distance, a building exploded, caving inward. My eyes flew back to Trent, keeping focused on him as he rolled over the rifle.

He grabbed the gun, pushing off of the ground with his feet to come up. He brought the scope up to his eye, standing completely still, before his arm twitched...he pulled the trigger, a small fireball of combusting powder spilling out the end.

Sha-BOOM!

I was knocked off my feet again as the tank exploded into flames. Cogs and treads and pieces that fit on who knows how went flying in all directions, saturating the ground in shrapnel and burning chunks of wiring. Black smoke billowed upwards into the sky, masking the previous clear-blueness.

I heard footsteps behind me. Rolling over, I found myself staring at Trent's boots. Eyes climbing upward, I found a hand and a warm smile being outstretched toward me. Taking it, I helped myself back up.

There was a moment of awkward silence as I dusted myself off. I said the only thing that seemed to be coherent in my head.

"So um...vhat ze hail did you do?"

Running a hand through his hair, he grinned shouldering his rifle.

"I just put a bullet down the barrel. You'd be suprised at how many weaknesses one's munitions can have."

This guy was insane. Insane for even trying it. More so for succeeding.

"Bullets down the barrel? Vhat the hell? Those don't go there!"

He laughed silently to himself, turning away. He muttered under his breath, obviously something I wasn't supposed to catch. Honestly though, I wish I hadn't.

"There's lots of places that things don't normally go..."

At that point in time, I decided for myself that I would rather have had the tank.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Trent Lockewood

My hands were still trembling. Those few short seconds kept replaying in my head. I could still feel the concussion of the air and heat that had grazed me as that shell had gone by. I could still see the dark recesses of the tank's barrel in my scope. Everything kept playing over and over, rewinding and playing again as soon as it had finished. I wasn't sure what had come over me, to leap out and risk my life like that. Marksmanship and the like had always been a priority for me, but acts of stupidity I tried to keep on the lower end. I flattened my arms against me as they started to tremble. I could not appear frightened in front of this Alex person. I had to assume that he already knew about me and Mike, and now it was a priority of mine to show him that we were still people. That we were still strong.

"So, Trent...before we go look for the others, I vould like to have a word with you."

I turned back to face Alex. He had his hands behind his trenchcoat, his stance mocking that of some type of officer. There was something about Alex that made me feel safe around him. He just seemed so...so calm, so secure and sure of what he was doing. Everything someone needed to be to stay alive in a place like this.

"Yes, Alex?"

His eyes flitted across mine before swooping quickly, seemingly becoming intrigued by a piece of shrapnel stuck into the ground. Clearing his throat, he replied, with a slight touch of anxiety in his voice.

"There is something about you...you and this Mike person. It's been gnawing at me ever since I've met you two. I might be missing something here, but...is there something, between you two? Between you and this Mike person?"

My throat closed up. I didn't know why I had this problem, around other guys. I was comfortable in my sexuality, but the very thought of talking about it with someone always brought my mind grinding to a halt. Not knowing what else to do, I nodded my head, looking away. Once again he cleared his throat, his voice becoming slower, his words coming as soft and slow as someone would through a mine field.

"I um...I see. I vould um...I vould try keeping that bit of information hidden from Salone, if you know what I mean. He is a bit of an asshole when it comes to people, especially me."

I looked up to him. I tried not to stare into his eyes...I focused on his short blonde hair, distracting myself with it while I talked.

"Thank you, Alex. I'm sure you know of how it feels to be different than most people. Thank you for being so open minded."

He nodded to me, the slightest of a smirk stretching across his face. He was quite handsome, now that I thought about it. I winced slightly as I thought about that, remembering that I still had Mike. What would Mike have thought about me thinking about other guys? And on further note...where were the others?

"Come on then Trent. Let's find the others, and see vhat we can do about digging ourselves out of this little shit hole."

I nodded to Alex, before noticing his eyes jerk up, looking over my shoulder. I turned as I heard the sound of someone running, their shoes crunching on the fresh sand and dirt. Turning all the way, I saw Salone skid to a halt, bending over to catch his breath. Alex and I glanced at one another, perplexed at what Salone was doing. After getting a few breaths, he started talking.

"Heh...Trent man, there's something...something wrong."

I raised an eyebrow. Stepping forward, I stopped as he looked up, catching my eyes.

"I said, there's something wrong. You might want to get your ass back over there with Nikole."

His vocabulary, or lack thereof, was a bit disconcerting. He seemed just the type that would make fun of people like me. Insolence.

"What's wrong then, Salone? What about Mike?"

I let my words hang in the air. I was beginning to feel uneasy. He hadn't said a thing about Mike. It was starting to worry me.

"Well?"

Taking one final breath, he pulled himself up, standing straight. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he looked me straight in the eyes. His were wide, almost as if in a constant state of disbelief. Like something had happened, or- Oh no. Oh god no.

I watched his lips move. I heard, but couldn't hear a thing happening around me. My mind had stopped. No, it couldn't be...in my mind, now a different scene was playing. No longer was I haunted by the barrel of the tank. In my head, I could now see Salone's lips moving, sounding out the same words over and over...

"That's the thing...Mike man, he's...he's dead."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Nikole Hammond

I held Mike's head off the ground, trying to keep him level. His chest was dark red, completely enveloped with the blood from his chest. Wedged inbetween his ribs, a long, thin shrapnel protruded from his body, piercing through a lung that had been breathing only minutes ago. I stared at him, into eyes that only stared into the grey sky above me. The blood only thickened as his body progressed downward, ending in a bloody stump where his waist used to be. I looked back up, to his eyes...his eyes, that stared back at me for what seemed eternity. Someone had once told me that if you ever witness the death of someone, that no matter what you do, never look them in the eyes. That man had told me that if you did, then they would haunt you in every waking moment you spent alone. I looked away, but still felt as if I could see them. They were in the sky, in the windows of the buildings, on signs...no matter where I looked, they were alway staring back at me. I closed my eyes, but they only became clearer. Pulling my hands out from under his bloody corpse and putting them over my face, I held back tears, trying not to cry. What was happening to me? What was going on?

"Nikole? Are you alright?"

I let my hands drop, opening my eyes to meet Alex's trenchcoat. Looking up, I could see his bright, pale-blue eyes. Finally, someone's eyes to take my mind of Mike's...

"Yeah, I...I am. Where's Trent?"

I stood up, dusting myself off as silently as I could. Alex stepped to the side, revealing a very quiet Trent. His eyes filled with cold fury as he stared down at Mike's body. Mike, who now seemed would only live on in eyes that would never see, but always watch me. Why did it have to be me?

"Wha...what happened?"

He stood still, as if he had been frozen in an invisible case of ice. I looked away, trying not to stare at him.

"Tank shell. Right across the middle. Shrapnel went all the way through his chest. It looked quick..."

It hit Trent hard. He mumbled to himself as he stepped closer to Mike, sinking down to his knees and putting his arms around him. I thought I had heard a sniff as Trent tightened around him, hiding his face. I looked back up to Alex, motioning for him to follow me behind the corner of the building we were nestled up against.

Salone was waiting for us when we got there. Folding his arms across his chest, he tapped his foot, doing his best to look impatient. Clearly though, he was in no hurry to move. Lifting his palms into the air, he raised his eyebrows as well, asking what sounded like more of a rhetoric question than anything.

"Well?"

"Vell, what? Let's let Trent have a bit of peace. Besides, it vill give us time to figure out what we should do. We are in a tight situation here, it seems."

"Well, look who's here to point out the day, it's Captain Obvious!"

Alex gave Salone the finger as he turned to me, clearing his throat and drawing himself up in what appeared to be a bad mock of a leaderly posture.

"Alright Nikole, I haven't seen you perform the amazing flexibility miracle that he has achieved in sticking his head up his ass. We have zombies behind us, and what Trent has described as the army in front of us. We're sandwhiched in the middle. We either go through the army and most likely die, or try to face down the rotting bastards with what ammunition we have left. What do you think?"

The thought of having to gun down an army of the undead held a bit more persuasion than the soldiers in front of us. I wasn't much experienced with a gun, but living humans had hearts and lungs and muscles you could kill them from. A headshot was not something I felt like trying repeatedly.

"Honestly, Alex, I'd rather go forward. Although I'm not sure why you're asking me. You of all people know I'm just following you around. I don't shoot. I don't help, I don't do anything. Why should I know anything as well?"

"Nikole, do not talk such bullshit. We're all doing everything we can, except Salone, but he's an asshole, I-"

Coughing loudly, Salone made his forgotten presence known.

"I _heard _that, Alex"

Waving a hand in the air to dismiss him, Alex started again.

"Anyways, the point is we're all stuck in this same shit-hole together. We're going to dig ourselves out together. For all we know, behind those soldiers are places that haven't even heard of what's happened here. Ve can escape, escape out to the real world. And so far, we're all doing what we can to get there."

I looked up into Alex's face. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Salone smirking. But I didn't care. At that moment, I felt like I was so empty, like there was nothing inside of me...looking into Alex's eyes, I couldn't stand it anymore. Wrapping my arms around him, I found myself burying my face into his coat once again. His big, burly arms went around me, holding me tight to him. Off in the far away background, I could hear Salone trying to say something.

"Hey, guys?"

Alex's coat moved as he turned towards Salone.

"Shut up, Salone."

"No, seriously dude, come here and look around this corner."

"What for?"

I let go of Alex, straightening my short vest as I stepped away. Salone had changed positions, poking his head around the corner from which we had came every few seconds.

"Seriously, Alex, get over there, something's up."

Lumbering over towards Salone, he muttered to himself, putting his hands on his hips.

"You know, you really shouldn't spy on Trent. He's got a good eye."

"Freaking tree stump, get over here and look at this, there's some chinese G.I. Joe talking to Trent!"

Blinking in disbelief, Alex grabbed Salone's back, hurling him backwards. Putting his fingers on the corner of the wall, he leaned slightly, poking his head around. I quietly followed suit, holding onto his back to keep me balanced.

Salone had been right. He was asian, with the tan, yellowish skin that most chinese people had. He was wearing an American soldier uniform, however, which looked almost big on him. Holding my breath, I could hear him talk in a strangely-American accent.

"I am ex-Major Zhou Garrett. At your service, Mr.Lockewood.


End file.
